The Last Mile – Day 4

Some background information about my mom, lest you have information about her only from her dying days –

As I mentioned in another post, my mom was brilliant. I don’t say that lightly – she truly was brilliant. In 1945, she was offered a half scholarship to Brooklyn Law School – at a time when the terms “women” and “lawyer” were oxymorons. (She turned it down, because I suspect she was not so much a pioneer. And because she wouldn’t have been able to pay the other half of the tuition.) Instead, she became the youngest registrar in the history of Long Island University. Ultimately, she went the way of many women of her generation – she became a teacher.

MomSchool1969My mom wasn’t a run-of-the-mill teacher – she was the type that every child dreamed of. Her students and their families stayed in touch with her for years after she had taught them. Just before my mom came up to Boston in 2010, her class of 1979 tracked her down and took her out for a reunion lunch. They decided to sing La Marseillaise, with my mom conducting them, just as she had done all those years ago, when she taught them French. Throughout her 30 years as a teacher, my mom created new generations of people for whom learning was a joy. She gave them a love of Shakespeare, a love of the English language, a love of music, and a love of life beyond Woodhaven, Queens.

When she retired, one of the first things she did was enroll in a class on Ulysses. She had gotten through a life-threatening battle with cancer and many awful side effects, gone back to teaching, and then tackled one of the most challenging books in all of literature. Why? I’ve always wanted to read James Joyce, she answered me, as if that were a no-brainer.

MomDadToastWedding MomDadHaroldAdaGrandma_2 img280One of the lives my mom touched most profoundly was my dad’s. He seemed to have been smitten with her right from the start, when he leaned over her shoulder in 1945 and said Hiya Toots! She replied, Get off my back! The rest was history. He won her over, and loved her beyond all measure. My dad’s face lit up when my mom came into the room. She was his world.

My mom lit up so many worlds in her lifetime. Her love for life was contagious; everyone was pulled into its orbit. Waiters at French restaurants engaged with her in French, and at Italian restaurants my mom and the waiters spoke together in Italian, gesticulating away! I remember her ease with people. She loved them and they loved her right back.

All in all, my mom had a love affair with life. I know it was mutual.

More tomorrow. Thanks for tuning in.

About armsakimbobook

I'm a mother, a lawyer, a feminist, a writer, a potter, and an inveterate and unapologetic New Yorker. My book, Arms Akimbo: A Journey of Healing, tells of my journey of healing over a number of years, learning to live a full life after I was molested by my father at a very young age. I live in Maynard, MA, with my wife and and our two moose-cats, Samson and Hercules. My daughter used to live with me part-time, but she's all grown up now and in her junior year of college, which I can't quite fathom, since she was born about five minutes ago...
This entry was posted in Grieving, My Mama and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Last Mile – Day 4

  1. Bev says:

    I’m loving your reflections on your mom. What a special woman she was!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s